Upside Down
by Firestar9mm
Summary: A parallel to Avarice's wonderful "Asuka's Smile", written with his permission, from Asuka's point of view.


*smile* Hi.  For those of you who don't know me, I'm Serena, and I want this to be love at first sight…

Before I start, some things you should know—I don't own Neon Genesis Evangelion.  This story is a parallel to Avarice's spectacular "Asuka's Smile", written with his consent, from Asuka's point of view.  So I'm going to set the interface headsets in my hair; it's up to you, the readers, to determine how high my synch ratio is.  

Enough of me; they're all yours, Asuka…

*****

**Upside Down**

A parallel to Avarice's "Asuka's Smile"

*****

The world was upside down.

            Again.

            It was one of the reasons I felt right at home there.  I was used to having my world upside down.

            The television had failed miserably to hold my attention.  The voices were fading in and out, from formless noise to a comfortable hum.  I blinked sleepily at the people on the screen; their upside-down faces, their silly, distorted features.  They were unrecognizable as human beings.  

            (Maybe I'm the one who's right side up,) I thought almost giddily.  (I'm right, and I've always been, and you're all wrong.)

            I was used to being right, too.

            I could see my hair licking at the floor like flame, spreading like lava beneath me.  I reached above (below...?) my head and rubbed my fingers along the floor, remembering the texture not against my hands, but against my cheek.  I remembered wanting to huddle down on the floor, hold onto it until my world stopped spinning.

            Looking up (down, maybe) at it, I realized it wasn't enough.  It could never be enough.  The floor stretched flat and empty in front of me.  There was nothing to hold onto.  The floor would never hold me back, and it wouldn't keep the sky from falling on me.

            I felt suddenly nauseous with the thought, but it might have been the blood rushing to my head.  I turned the volume up on the television, a last desperate attempt to drown out the screaming in my head.  My eyes slid closed, and I didn't mind, because it felt as though my brains might leak out through them.

            It could have been five minutes or forever that my eyes stayed closed, although my watch said twenty minutes.  The air around me was suddenly warm and heavy with the scent of food cooking.  It beckoned to me, promising good things, promising home.  I mistrusted the feelings immediately, but the clumsy sack of blood and bone that was my body believed the promises.  A growl sounded, not the beast that slept curled around my heart, but a lesser evil--hunger.

            I mean, the scents were pleasing, but it was memory that tugged at me.  It was wishful thinking that tapped my shoulder and tried to make me remember what never was.  It was pleasing, but it did not make this place my home.

            My skin was still cool from the shower I'd taken when I'd gotten in.  I'd stood under the artificial rain until it ran cold, soaking my hair and skin.  It was a good place to hide.  The water had cascaded down my face, starred my eyelashes together.  If one cries in the shower, hidden beneath the spray, is one still crying? If no one can see it--if it's impossible to tell the difference between the water and the tears--is it still really happening?

            I'd scrubbed until my skin had turned red (they say when you've drawn blood, you've exfoliated...).  Not that it worked.  Not that it ever washed away.  I could still smell the metallic scent of the LCL, a sharp stinging in my nose.  Eau de Eva, the scent of failure, of everything I'd spent my whole life beating back.

            And now I was back where I'd started, lying upside down on the loveseat, watching Japanese TV.

            Welcome home, the hiss of the shower had said to me, and it hadn't been enough.  Welcome home, the blare of the TV had shouted, and I hadn't believed.  Welcome home, the scent of food cooking had whispered, but I did not follow its beckoning hand.

            His steps were almost silent as he passed the loveseat, his eyes tracking the movement of my foot as I absently kept time to my heartbeat.  

            My world was upside down.

            (Maybe you're the one who's upside down, and I'm right...) I started to think again, but the words died on the way to my brain as a hand closed around my ankle.  The action made it awkward for me to continue keeping time with my foot, but my heart rate had accelerated, making it difficult for my foot to keep up anyway.

            I realized that I'd been wrong.  It was I who was upside down, and it was my own doing.  He stood as he'd always stood, a scowl slashing his features, his eyebrows holding the frown, defiant and defensive.  Meeting his eyes was like watching obsidian shatter into pieces.

            Deep in those troubled eyes, I saw the answer--not my own reflection, not who I was, but _where_ I was.  Home.  Upside down.  At his feet.

            It was strangely familiar, almost as familiar as the sick thudding of my heart against my breastbone.  I wondered if he could see it pounding against my skin, trying to break free.  

            His own chest was rising and falling with his respiration, a steady, comfortable rhythm, lulling me into a slightly calmer state.  He looked like stone that could breathe.  I jerked my eyes back to his new-old face, but the rhythm of his breath swirled around me like the sea, slipped over me like the breakers would...I wondered irrationally if this was what it felt like to drown.  Being tossed around by an outside force, having no control over it.

            He was light and shadow, the most intricate, frustrating, interesting pattern.  I had worked my whole life to keep the light and darkness separate, but in him they came together and drew the eye.  I felt suddenly foolish, as if I'd been blind all my life and couldn't make use of the sight I'd been given.

            He was and wasn't the boy I'd known.  Every time he breathed in or out, my decision changed.  I couldn't make up my mind.

            Three years.  What to say? What to do? 

            (Shinji...I...)

            Angels and Eva, synch rates and test runs...

            (Shinji, how have...?)

            Blood and bio-rhythms and soldiers and dolls...

            (Shinji...you know...)

            His dark gaze seemed to dare me to speak, to beg me to speak, and to enjoy the silence, all at once.

            "Shinji," I said aloud, my voice even and calm, "if you don't remove your hand from my leg in three seconds I'm going to kick your teeth in."

            He yanked his hand away from my leg as if he'd been scalded, his expression that of a waking sleeper.  "Huh? Oh, my bad!"

            And he was Shinji, again.

            I couldn't help but smile, not to bare fangs, but just because he made it easy to smile.  Whether I was laughing with him or laughing at him, he made it easy to smile.

            As I flipped to an upright position, I realized that this was going to be a double-edged sword.  I could get to my feet and look him over, but I'd have to allow him to look me over, too.  I couldn't have one without the other, but I wasn't expecting Shinji to be mature about it.  I swear, if there was one pervert in the world, he would find me.

            Staring into those obsidian eyes, I realized that I could be defensive or I could be aggressive.  Guess which one I chose?

            I went up on my toes, turning slowly for him, feeling the welcome weight of my hair swing behind me, brushing my bare shoulders like fur.  If he was going to ogle me, I might as well look my absolute cutest.  

            Upon completing the rotation, I fluttered my eyelashes at him.  "Like what you see?" I teased.

            I don't know why he nodded like a yes-man.  It was just a joke.

            I couldn't help but snicker at those saucer eyes.  I wanted a closer look at him, but I wasn't about to move.  Petty of me, I know, but I wanted to make him come to me.

            When he didn't move closer I beckoned impatiently.  "Hey, get over here, baka! Lemme see the goods!"

            Shinji obeyed silently, and it amazed me that he could--that he could just stand there quietly and let someone look him over, slide their probing gaze anywhere, make silent judgments of him.  Why didn't it rip him up inside, the way it did me? What was wrong with him?

            What was wrong with me?

            He looked so solid standing before me that I felt I had to touch him to be sure he was real.  I slid my hands up his chest, marveling at how warm he was.  I could feel his heartbeat beneath my hands, the steady pulse of his life.  It should have made him fragile to me, but somehow I only saw him as stronger, so much stronger than before.  What had changed him? 

            "I see you've been a busy boy," I murmured, and Shinji shuddered, whether at my words or at having me touch him so, I'm not sure.  I felt the movement beneath my hands, felt his body heat rise under my touch.  There was power in that, that I could make him notice me, make him feel...

            "So what're you doing here, Asuka? I thought you went back to Germany for good?" he asked.

            I let him go as if his skin had burned me, stepping back to put physical distance between us.  My hands remembered his heartbeat.  Everything cooled when I wasn't close to him.

            Moron.  I'd been close enough to feel his heartbeat, and he had to go and ask me _that_?

            "I just went back for a bit more schooling.  I've already gotten another science degree," I said breezily, my tone not half as cold as my body had become.  I turned my head to the side, shrugging my shoulders, as if it didn't matter.  Maybe it didn't.  Nothing really mattered, except... "As for why I came back, _you_ ought to know better than anyone why I came back."

            He did.  "Eva."

            I wanted to shudder at the word, as if just saying it out loud would bring a cloud of Angels descending upon our heads.  Instead I looked at Shinji's face.

            He was smiling, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.  They'd gone dead, blank, a...a doll's eyes.  If I hadn't known it was manifestly impossible, I'd have said he had been disappointed by my answer.

            Well, ask a silly question! What was he expecting me to say? That I'd come back to Japan because I loved the cuisine?

            "Eva.  Exactly," I clarified, so that there might be no more mistakes.  But instead of the righteous anger that had once crept into my voice when I spoke of Eva, I simply recited the tired words again like a bratty child.  We'd been over this before.  "I am the best Eva pilot.  And I am going to prove it.  To everybody."

            Same old, same old.

            Leave it to Shinji to kill the moment.  He was staring into a middle distance, the weight of the world on his shoulders again.  Granted, those shoulders seemed a little stronger now than I'd remembered, but it was a very depressing sight, nonetheless.  Smoothly, I did what I do best, which was bring his attention back to me.  

            I tapped my fist against his chest gently.  "Hey, Shinji.  You look good.  I mean it.  I bet the girls at school try to cop a feel all the time now." I grinned slyly at him.  "I can think of several who wanted to back in Two-A." 

            No need to mention their names, or that I _might_ have been one of the several.  I already planned to take _that_ particular secret to my grave.  

            Shinji averted his eyes, suddenly becoming fascinated with a crack in the ceiling.  "Well, maybe."

            Oh, really! Now I was curious, but I'd die before letting him know that.  I mean, he was _Shinji_.  It wasn't like we could sit in the kitchen, eat something sweet and bitch about our love lives.  

            Again, he caught me off-guard with his question.  "Well, what about you?  You look..."

            I waited, leaning forward slightly so as not to miss his answer.

            "...you look...absolutely..."

            I couldn't help but smile.  He was babbling like an idiot.  I had to raise my head to look him in the face--when did he get so tall?

            "Ehh...I...well, I mean....y-you know..."

            As funny as this was, I couldn't stand there forever and wait for him to give birth to the syllables that would form his answer.  I decided to prompt him, once again fluttering my eyelashes.  Had there been any candles lit in the room, my lashes might have put them out.  "Why, no, Shinji, I don't.  What _ever_ could you mean?"

            Shinji had that classic deer-in-the-headlights look.  I wondered giddily if his life was passing before his eyes as I looked into them, and suddenly I felt the smile fade from my face.

            It wasn't that I had meant to stop smiling, nor had the apartment blown up or Shinji done anything aggravating.  It was just that looking into his eyes, I realized that it takes seventeen muscles to smile, and I suddenly didn't have the energy.

            His eyes were ordinary, as eyes go.  They weren't especially bright or some flashy color.  They were just....deep.  Deep as the ocean, and I knew that it might be dangerous to look into those eyes, to allow that deep, chill dark to touch me.  Dangerous, but worth it.

            A line from some book I'd once read in school ran on little cat feet through my mind--Nietzsche, maybe?

            "As you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you..."

            I was warming my hands on his skin once again, and his strength lazily made itself known to me as he stood there, perfectly still and straight, as if I weren't leaning full-out against him.

            I raised my face, our breath mingling, and...and a thin stream of blood slipped from Shinji's nose.

            Strike two! Should I throw the ball one more time?

            "Same old perverted Shinji." I couldn't help but laugh, pressing my hand to his cheek in a mock slap.  I could feel the burn of his blush under my touch.

            All right, enough games.  I was hungry, and I wasn't going to give any more freebies to a guy who'd had two perfect opportunities to make a move and didn't.  Do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollars.

            "So what'd you fix me for dinner? I couldn't find anything to eat in the kitchen before." I'd ransacked the cabinets looking for those instant heatable eatables the apartment had once been stocked with, but hadn't found any.

            "Nothing special.  Just some of your not-so-favorite bland Japanese food." Shinji's voice was muffled as he wiped his nose.

            "Oh, _joy_," I said, not bothering to pretend to be enthused.  Shinji would have known it was an act.  "I will admit I missed your cooking, but I hope you've improved these last few years.  I'm not as easy to impress as I used to be," I warned.

            "_Easy_?" he exclaimed.  "I used to think it would take a Third and Fourth Impact to impress you.  Now I really _am_ scared!"

I tapped my fist against his chest--not so gently this time, just to show him I meant business.  "Well, maybe I _am_ a _little_ easier to impress.  Don't forget, that was over three years ago.  I'm not such a little girl anymore," I finished haughtily, turning away from him.

            Shinji seemed to have gotten smarter--he said nothing at all.

            Turning back to face him, I stamped my foot impatiently.  "Come on, are you going to feed me or what? I haven't eaten since the flight; I feel like chewing the couch."

            The growl of my stomach was abnormally loud in the quiet of the room.  Oh, how embarrassing.  I clapped a hand over my abdomen.

            I raised my eyebrows at Shinji, in a "you see?" manner.  

            He smiled at me, and you'd think an angel--a true angel--had eyes like that.  No one's eyes were that kind.

            "Yeah, come on, before it gets cold." He led the way back to the kitchen.

            I had never been so happy to see food, even if it was Japanese food.  Of course, I was so hungry I probably could have eaten seaweed and rocks, but I digress...

            The food was actually pretty good.  Maybe I _was_ getting easier to impress, but Shinji had done a pretty good job with dinner.  I popped the tab on one of the cans he had so thoughtfully placed on the table.  I was beginning to appreciate how Misato treated her problems with our good friend alcohol.  If my latest trip to Tokyo-3 was anything like the last one, I was going to station myself outside Misato's special fridge and not leave it till I was unconscious.

            Shinji's eyes grew slowly wider as I ate and drank, until they looked like the empty plate in front of me.

            I reached for his plate and he obliged me, sliding it across the table to me.  I was examining this delightful little sauce that had been set out when I realized the beer cans were empty.

            I debated over it for a second, but it was my first night back in Tokyo-3.  Didn't I deserve a lousy beer?

            " 'ey, Finji!" I said, my words muffled by food.  I could have waited to chew and swallow, but somehow I felt it would take too long.  There was still half a plate of food in front of me that was commanding my immediate attention.

            Not wanting to waste any more words, I gestured at the empty cans.  Shinji understood perfectly and retrieved the rest of the six-pack from the fridge.  I rewarded him for his perceptiveness with a smile and twisted open the first beer.

            I sighed happily once I'd drained the last of the can.  I couldn't stop a small belch from escaping me.  My compliments to the chef.

            "Man, you _did_ get better at cooking.  That actually hit the spot, Shinji," I said, amused by the way the empty cans would occasionally try to dance.  Or maybe I was more tipsy than I thought.

            "Thanks," he said, in a soft voice that held a kind of quiet awe.  "Hey, Asuka?"

            "Hmm?" I asked, trying to catch the cans in the act.  Seemed like every time I turned my head, they started whispering about me.

            "Since when did you take up drinking?" Shinji asked, looking a bit perplexed.  But who wouldn't, when the table was moving like that?

            Oh, that.  I waved a hand dismissively.  "Oh, back in college...the second time...lots of parties, you know."

            Shinji smiled and nodded.  At least I think he nodded.

            I heard the door open, and knew who it was before she yelled, "Shinji! I'm home! Is Asuka here yet?"

            Of course I was here! I was home, too.  I smiled a little at the thought.

            I ran to greet Misato, too impatient to wait for her to get into the kitchen.  If I hugged her too hard, I hadn't meant to.  It was just that the familiarity made me smile.  And I kept smiling, as we sat and talked, while Shinji moved around the kitchen.  

            "Asuka, are you still hungry?" he asked.

            I was glad he'd asked.  "Damn right I am.  And keep the beers coming," I directed, drawing a rousing affirmative from Misato.

            Shinji obliged, and I spent the next hours in contentment, surrounded by talk and food and alcohol.  Surrounded by my family.  The clink of dishes made me smile.  Misato was telling a story that I was sure would have been extremely obscene if she hadn't kept losing her train of thought and having to start over.  Shinji was chuckling softly at her silliness, and it was that sound that touched me through the noise of running water and clinking forks and beer cans against the table.  His soft laugh warmed me more than the alcohol that heated my blood.

            When he had finished the dishes, he turned in the doorway, his silhouette dark against the hall light streaming in behind him.  "I'm going to bed," he called softly.

            "G'night, Shinji," Misato chirped.

            " 'Night, Shinji," I murmured.  Speaking suddenly seemed a chore.

            "Goodnight, Misato.  Goodnight, Asuka," he said, and added, "It's good to have you back."

            It was good to _be_ back, I decided, watching his smoothly muscled form become smaller and smaller as he moved down the hallway, like an underwater swimmer in a darkening sea.

*****

            I hadn't expected to fit back into the world of Tokyo-3 like...well, me into my plugsuit.  Instead of finding hurtful proof that Hikari's life had proceeded on without me, she welcomed me back into it with open arms.  I was only beginning to realize what an amazing thing true friendship was, to have a sort of power over time.

            Only one thing marred my passage back into Tokyo-3 life, but I was bound to see Wondergirl and Nagisa sooner or later.  There was just something about those two  that made the hackles on the back of my neck rise.  I felt very proud of myself for not doing violence to them.  Strangely, no one seemed to share my opinion, but I dismissed it as simply a show of solidarity to the preexisting group.  I was once again new in town, after all.

            But oh, just to smash my fist against Wondergirl's bleached cheek--just once! Maybe THAT would bring some expression to that stone face!...

            Ah, I digress.

            I had been in Tokyo-3 a week.  Nothing had exploded, and no one was dead.  I took it as a good sign.  

            I was slightly disappointed to see Shinji wearing a loose t-shirt over his sweats when he walked into the room on Friday night, rather than the testosterone treat I had experienced on the day I'd arrived.

            But first things first.  "What's for dinner?"

            "What do you want?" he asked, stopping in front of me.

            An interesting change of plans.  I sat up on the loveseat and gave him a smile.  "Well, it isn't fair for you to cook _all_ the time.  How about you order a pizza tonight? Hikari told me about this new place she talked Touji into taking her to a couple weeks ago..."

            Shinji laughed.  "My treat, I'm guessing?"

            I chucked my beer can at him.  "You're a quick study.  Bring me another?"

            He plucked the can out of the air easily and went into the kitchen.  He returned with the phone book, the portable phone, and another beer.  I gratefully accepted the beer while he dialed.

            "Umm, Asuka?" he asked, the phone tucked between his shoulder and chin.

            I killed the last of the beer and scrunched the can in my hand before batting it in his direction.  "Yeah?"

            "What do you want on your pizza?"

            Shinji and I rarely agreed on anything.  I had a feeling pizza toppings wouldn't be any different.  "Just get one with everything on it."

            He repeated the order into the phone.  And I swear, that was the easiest time I ever had talking Shinji Ikari into anything.

            After he hung up, he returned the phone book to the kitchen.  I was surprised and pleased to see him return with another beer without me having to ask for it.

            "Hey, Shinji?" I asked suddenly, squirming on the love seat that I had staked out as mine.  "When did Misato get rid of the couch and bean-bags in favor of this thing and...that thing?" I waved my hand at the recliner he was sitting in.

            Shinji smiled at me.  "Actually, that was my doing.  After you left..." He paused slightly but continued, "...I decided these would be a bit more practical, considering we stopped having guests of any sort, and Misato was rarely home.  These gave us a bit more floor space and they were easier to move around so I could clean underneath them.  Plus the couch smelled like beer from where Misato had spilled so many." He wrinkled his nose slightly and I quickly moved the beer in my hand to the floor, out of his line of sight.  "Oh." 

            I looked up from hiding the beer and met his eyes.  He'd watched me the entire time.  So much for being inconspicuous.  I squirmed on the love seat under his scrutiny.

            "Hey," he said suddenly, as if the thought had just struck him.  "How come you're home tonight?"

            I breathed a sigh of relief.  (A small sigh.) He didn't care about the beer.  "No one to go out with tonight," I said with a shrug, lounging on the love seat.

            There was no one else in the room with us, but even if there had been no one would have been more surprised than I at what Shinji said next.

            "Hey," he said suddenly, turning towards me.  "After we eat, you wanna go out? Like for a walk or a movie or something?"

            The idea sounded almost as appealing as the pizza that was soon to arrive at our door, but I reminded myself that I had to play hard to get.  Considering that Shinji usually played easy to avoid, I was out of practice, but I had to make him come to me.

            "Well, normally I'd say sure--as long as you were paying, of course--but there's a movie I want to watch coming on tonight."

            "Ah," he said, a flash behind his eyes betraying an emotion that I couldn't place.  Trying to read Shinji's thoughts was like looking at lights shining through wax paper--all I could see was color, not shape.

            He said nothing more.  He was making it very difficult to play hard to get--who gives up after the first try?! It looked like I was going to have to take over from here.  "I'll tell you what, though," I said, trying to bring his attention back on me and off the commercial for the mechanical hairbrush.

            "Huh?" he said, mesmerized by the spinning brush.

            Well, close enough.  Time to move in for the kill.  "If you can manage to sit here and watch this scary movie with me without so much as TWITCHING--" I over-exaggerated the word "twitching", taking special care to pronounce each syllable.  "--I'll let you take me out tomorrow night.  Your treat, of course," I added silkily.  

            I reclined on the loveseat, having thrown my bomb.  However, the explosion came from an unexpected corner.

            "What?!" Shinji's eyes spat angry sparks in my direction.  "You don't think I can sit through some stupid movie without wetting myself, do you?"

            I couldn't help but smirk at his tone.  "Please.  You used to be afraid of your own shadow, and this movie is supposed to be pretty gory, so I'm going to have to go with 'no' on that one." I chuckled, which was like dousing Shinji's anger with gasoline.

            "All right, you're on! So what do I get if I win?"

            I sighed impatiently.  "I already told you that, stupid.  If you win, you get the privilege of taking the most beautiful girl in Tokyo-3 out to dinner, a movie, and a bit of shopping--all at your expense."

            Shinji was no dope.  He shook his head at me.  "No way.  That'll be if I lose.  If win, you get to take _me_ out to dinner and a movie and _you_ pick up the tab."

            The tables were turning so fast I was dizzy! "What?!" I shrieked, sitting bolt upright on the love seat.  "No way!"

            Shinji also snapped to attention, the *clack* of the recliner's footrest snapping into place seeming as loud as a gunshot to me.  "Yes way! If I can make it through this movie without so much as yelping in surprise or getting up and leaving, you get to take me out to dinner and a movie.  If I lose, I'll take you out to whatever restaurant you want, to the most expensive theater in Tokyo-3, and on an all-night shopping trip!"

            We stared holes into each other as I weighed my options.  There was the slightest, smallest, almost _nonexistent_ chance that I'd gotten in over my head here...

            On the other hand, Shinji had _never_ stood up to me like this before; he'd always had a pipe cleaner for a spine.  Only now he was glowering at me, his nostrils flaring slightly, as though any minute he'd start breathing fire.  Even though he was frowning, it changed his face wonderfully for the better in comparison to his usual blank, open, chalkboard expression.  The fire of feeling had heated his blood and lit him up from the inside out.  It was amazing to watch.

            I smiled silkily.  We'd see if Shinji's new steel spine could hold him up against me.  "You've surprised me twice tonight, Third Child.  Let's see if you can make it three."

            That fire reached his eyes, sparked in their dark depths, then flared into an answering smile, a challenging smile.  "I'm going to win."

            I snorted.  "Please! I'll take the Vegas odds on _that_ one.  Now, go get me another beer, will you? The movie starts in half an hour."

            The pizza looked like a deli display case, which was just the way I liked it.  I experienced a very rare feeling of contentment as the movie's opening credits started.  I couldn't quite place what was making me feel so, but I had a sneaking suspicion it had very little to do with either the pizza or the alcohol.

            I wasn't entirely sure I understood movies, but I took comfort in the fact that you don't have to understand something to enjoy it.  For instance, I couldn't understand why actors and actresses got paid more money than teachers and police officers.  I also couldn't understand why people would watch movies full of blood, gore, and monsters when sudden instant death lurked right in their own backyards.  Perhaps a fictional story about a murdering psychopath was more palatable to people who lived in constant fear of bug-eyed, lance-wielding, geofront-drilling monsters dropping from the sky before they'd had their morning coffee.  Human opponents seemed slightly more defeatable next to the angels, I suppose.

            Shinji seemed rather bored with the whole affair, but it was difficult to watch the movie and him at the same time.  If I focused the majority of my attention on him, the movie would startle me with cheap special effects or creepy music.  If I kept the majority of my attention on the movie, I found my eyes wandering back to Shinji instead.  I was caught between a rock and a hard place.  A very hard place.

            Shinji finally felt the weight of my stare after several minutes of me watching him watch the movie.

            "What is it, Asuka?" he asked.

            Whoops.  I hadn't expected him to notice.  I groped for an excuse, seizing the lamest possible one I could come up with.

            "Umm...you...err...ah..." I couldn't stop a nervous chuckle from bubbling in my throat and spilling out.  "D'you think you could...y'know, come sit by me? I'm a little bit...cold...and...and..." I rushed the last bit, having been inspired late.  "And I need help finishing these last two pieces of pizza."

            Oh, _lame_.  Way to go, Sorhyu.  I should have just worn a pin that said, "I'm Captain Obvious.  Ask me how."

            Shinji simply said, "Yeah, sure," and I squirmed as he moved closer.  I felt the need to make up for my faux pas, glaring at him as I said, "If you so much as think of touching me, pervert, I'll break every last one of your fingers and gouge your eyeballs from their sockets."

            Shinji relaxed further, seeming not to have heard the threat.  He folded his hands behind his head and sighed, "Wouldn't dream of it, Asuka."

            I clamped my lips together, trying not to growl in frustration.  What the hell was wrong with him? I was flashing a green light right under his nose, and he looked like he was about to fall asleep!

            Somehow, it seemed that the more agitated I got, the more comatose Shinji became.  By now, I was a tightly leashed bundle of fury beside him.  I sat and stewed while he watched the movie.  I was just about to turn to him and give him a piece of my mind when the movie's soundtrack suddenly changed.

            Okay, the monster was lame and looked like it was made of papier-mâché, and the acting was so wooden we could have started a fire with it, but I wasn't ready for it! It attacked the actors, dismembering one in a great gout of fake blood and other fluids, complete with creepy music.

            When I opened my eyes, which had been squeezed shut, I found myself huddling against something warm and impossibly solid.

            A ripple coursed through the body beside me; a small laugh.  How dare he laugh at me? It was all his fault it startled me anyway! If he hadn't made me so mad...

            I smacked my hand flat against his chest, open palm, feeling the sting shock my skin.  "What the hell are you laughing at, jerk? It just so happens that--"

            Shinji's smile was wicked as he pointed to the screen.  I turned automatically, as anyone might when someone points at something.

            I turned just in time to see someone's arm get ripped out of its socket by the pasted-together movie monstrosity.  I shrieked again, one of those embarrassing little yip screams that are so girly.  I instinctively curled almost into a ball, trying to hide against my only shield.  Laughter shook Shinji, shook us both.

            "You asshole," I growled through gritted teeth.  "You did that on purpose!"

            Shinji executed an almost perfect innocent face.  I could practically see the halo above his dark head, but the oily smile ruined it.  "What are you talking about?"

            I snorted and refused to look at him.  The only way to do that was to nestle against his chest and focus on the tv.  He didn't squirm away; rather he circled an arm around me, his hand lightly cupping my shoulder, as if he were afraid I'd get away from him.

            My heart was knocking against my breastbone almost painfully.  I tried to slow it down by concentrating on it, but it was impossible to concentrate on my own heartbeat when Shinji's was so close and loud against me.  I found the rhythm soothing, almost like a lullaby.  When I tried to concentrate on my heart again, I found it had slowed to catch up to his.  

            It was there, not in Eva, that I learned the true meaning of synchronization.

            The music changed again, building up to another suspenseful attack.  This time I vowed to be ready, eyes wide and focused intently on the screen.  I dared not even blink.  I studied every crawl space on the screen, searching for the monster.

            So of course I was caught completely off-guard when Shinji used the hand he'd cupped around my shoulder to shake me, his voice growling in a poor imitation of an already cheesy creature.

            I had never screamed so loudly in my life.  I could barely suck in enough breath to add, "Shinji, you ASSHOLE!" before I launched myself at him.  Our combined weight was too much for the love seat, and it teetered for a suspenseful second before tipping over and crashing to the floor.  I rode Shinji's body all the way down, and was straddling him when we landed.  I pinned him with my body, holding him down with one hand and wailing on him with the other, snarling obscenities the whole time.

            It wasn't much of a fight.  Shinji wasn't really trying; he weakly attempted to fend me off, seizing my wrist before I could land another punch.  I felt the strength in that hand, an iron cuff around my wrist.  

            Shinji was chuckling like a little kid, not even paying attention, and there I was, barely able to hold my own.  When had he become so strong? When had laughter come so easily to him? Had it always been that way, and I'd never noticed? 

            Once again I was caught in that strange riptide he'd put me through the day I'd come back.  I tried to slow my breathing, suddenly realizing my position.  Shinji was lying flat on his back beneath me.  I was straddling his body, pinning him between my thighs.  I could feel his ribs move beneath me with his breathing.  If I stayed perfectly still, I could feel the rising and falling of his chest, and consequently my body, as he breathed, as if I weighed nothing at all.

            Shinji's lips were parted, his eyes dew-bright beneath half-mast lids.  He'd been laughing so hard tears had begun to trickle down his cheeks.  He was slightly flushed from the effort, and I was so suddenly aware of his breath pushing past his lips to cloud hotly against my skin.  I wanted desperately to wrench my hands from his grip and slide them up his chest to feel his heart hammering.  Such exertion would make it race, I could almost feel it beating against my palms...but I was afraid to move, as if some spell would break.

            My stomach fell, the way it would in an elevator.  Every muscle in my body was as weak as water.  His hands still clutched my wrists.  I was held completely captive by that simple, gentle touch.  The only sound was the rhythm of his breathing, slowing finally as we stared at one another.

            Shinji's eyes searched me as he lay beneath me, completely vulnerable, completely fearless.  No man's eyes had ever rested quite like that on me before.  They darkened so with pure desire.

            I couldn't move, couldn't speak.  All I could do was wait, helpless, so helpless in his hands.  

            A smile spread slowly across his face.  Those heated onyx eyes fixed right on mine...and one closed briefly in a wink.

            "Gotcha," Shinji said, his voice surprisingly bass with something other than laughter.

            This wasn't how it was supposed to go at all! A million emotions flitted inside me like startled birds, brushing my heart with their wings.  Confused.  Wanting.  Needing.  Afraid to need.

            I decided to go safe--with angry.

            "Jerk," I hissed, wrenching my arm from his grip and using it to pound on his chest, that heated cavity which housed his fragile heart.  I slid off him, making myself as heavy as possible, my thighs sliding against the fabric of his shirt, the heat of his skin beneath like a distant memory.

            Shinji immediately rolled over, his body liquid grace against the floor.  Not looking at me, he proceeded to return the loveseat to its original position, his face as blank as a refrigerator door.

            The moron was _cleaning_.  As if I weren't even there, as if nothing had happened at all! He was cleaning the living room.  I sat in absolute silence for a minute, unable to believe it.

            As soon as the loveseat was righted, I returned to it.  I was unable to help curling up into a ball, my arms locked around my knees, my chin propped on my arms. Shinji did not join me; he returned to the recliner he'd been camped in earlier.  I felt the disappointment blaze inside me, hot and bright.  I hid my face; he must not see. 

            The movie droned on.  I'd forgotten all about it; I was no longer interested in it.  The television was once again as I'd seen it a week ago, while lying upside down--comical, ridiculous, unrecognizable.  It failed completely to hold my attention.  I could not stop my mind, my eyes, from wandering back over to him.

            I jabbed my thumb almost desperately onto the remote control buttons, changing the channels.  I fiercely needed the control over what I was watching.  It wasn't like I could change the channel, flip a switch, and Shinji would go away.  It wasn't like I could press a button and these feelings would go away.  I hated it, having no control over it.

            Shinji turned to walk out of the room, and my whole body froze.  He couldn't get out fast enough! Couldn't wait to be away from me.  

            In retaliation, I refused to look at him as I addressed him.  "Hey, Shinji."

            He might have stopped, but I didn't see--I was still stubbornly refusing to look at him.  He said, "Yeah?"

            I felt a sense of deja vu as I said, "I'm bored."

            "So?" he asked slowly.

            Gott! Did I have to lead him by the hand through everything?! "So come _here_," I said, trying not to grit my teeth, not to growl it.  

            Shinji returned to the recliner, and my movements were quick and jerky with frustration as I patted the loveseat cushion beside me.  Shinji followed, but practically hugged the side of the loveseat, putting cold distance between us.  I huddled away from him.  Fine.

            The silence clawed at me until I couldn't take it any more.  I shut the television off with a sharp *click*.  Shinji turned to me, smiling slightly.  It was nothing like the laughter of before; just a ghost of his real smile.

            "I'm bored," I repeated softly.

            "You've said as much already," Shinji said calmly.  It infuriated me.  All these new feelings were cooking my insides into a fine hot boiling kettle of Asuka, and he sat there looking frostier than even Ayanami--a feat if there ever was one!

            Shinji sat there, looking at me, as if he were patiently waiting for me to do something he wanted.  

            All right, I told myself.  You've faced death with this boy.  You've lived life with this boy.  It's time to be honest with him.

            I opened my mouth to say any one of a million things, but something entirely surprising came out.  I was afraid of how small and scared my voice sounded to my own ears.

            "Do you think I'm pretty?"

            Shinji's expression stung me.  His eyebrows met over his nose as he snorted.  "Do I think you're pretty? What kind of question is that?"

            A very good one?

            I felt myself floundering, uneasy with how curious I was to hear his answer.  I answered his question by repeating the first one.  "I asked you first! Do you?"

            Shinji smiled softly again, that true angel's smile.  (You're safe here,) that smile promised.  It was a lie...wasn't it? It _had_ to be a lie...

            Safe here...

            "You've said as much yourself.  You're the prettiest girl in Tokyo-3...or all of Japan for that matter."

            Nice answer, but he was just repeating what I'd said, neatly sidestepping the question.  Not a yes.  But not a no, either.  I took it as a good sign, venturing timidly further.

            "Do you like spending time with me?"

            I felt more than saw him flinch.  My heart fell.  What a stupid question.  Of course he didn't enjoy spending time with me.  I'd spent the whole of our time together making him miserable, shrieking and insulting him, using my hands, my feet, my words as weapons against him.  Why would he like spending time with me? Why would anyone?

            "More than anything else." The conviction in his voice rung like a great heavy bell.

            My hair swung heavily behind me as I turned toward him.  I was afraid if I took my eyes off him, he'd run away, disappear.  Leave me.  Had he really just said what he'd said?

            I was suddenly aware of the weight of the remote control in my hand.  I hated the feel of it, the stickiness of the Scotch tape used to hold the battery case together.  I dropped it as though it were hot, almost threw it away from me in disgust.  My hands were suddenly empty, a feeling that almost physically hurt me.  How to fix that?

            There was a way.  I just wasn't sure I could do it.  I'd dived into that volcano eagerly, triumphantly after that Angel embryo.  Why was I so nervous now?

            What if I didn't ask him? What if he asked me? I could do that--make him say it.  Then I wouldn't be saying it, it would all be him.

            "Do you wanna hold my hand?" I slid my hand towards him, my suddenly clammy skin sticking to the loveseat's upholstery.

            Shinji's reply was immediate this time.  "Yeah..."

            Helplessly, I reached my hand out to him, a drowning swimmer.  He gently held it in both of his, as if it were something precious and fine, something to be treasured.  That feeling of safety washed over me again--would never hurt me, never ever--as he caressed my palm with his thumb, those soft circles putting me on slow burn.  I felt he somehow knew every inch of my hand, the loops and whorls of my fingerprints, the veins thudding nervously beneath my skin.

            A fine trembling thrilled through me.  I drew a deep breath, and leaned in closer.  Could I do this? Could I ask for something I wanted and not be rebuffed with laughter? Could I want something without having to demand it?

            "Shinji...kiss me?"

            His breath flowed across my lips as he brought his own to them.  "Yeah," he murmured, no hesitation, no fear.  It was soft and questioning, clumsy as first kisses tend to be.  A kiss that demanded nothing, except another kiss, which he eagerly gave.  My eyes slid closed, his mouth a warm softness against mine.

            That drowning feeling was back again, but this time I welcomed it with open arms.  I was awed by the intimacy of the kiss--it seemed so simple, but was so much more than that.  There was nothing quite like tasting another person; a closeness that couldn't be duplicated even though ninety-five percent of our bodies were still apart.

            Eighty-five percent--I had cuddled closer to Shinji, and he'd wrapped me in his arms as the kisses deepened.  I slid my tongue past his lips, exploring, tasting him.  So much stronger than the alcohol...It was almost like being in Eva, letting my lungs fill up with LCL, only this was so much nicer, so much better.  When he caressed my tongue with his, I opened my lips to his kiss.

            My body ached with a desperate need to be closer to him, to touch him anywhere, everywhere.  I settled for sliding one leg across his thighs, straddling him.  This made me taller; I fisted some of his hair and kissed him fiercely, as if I'd eat him from the mouth down.  I'd always imagined Shinji as having coarse hair, but this was like the silky pelt of an animal, dark against my milk-pale hand.

            Shinji's tongue stroked mine as I continued my assault, but he couldn't hold out forever against the power of my kiss.  He released my bruised lips slowly, touching his mouth to mine lightly every so often as if he weren't quite ready to let go.

            My smile leapt like a flame, but I didn't get to enjoy the upper hand for long.  Shinji gently tugged on my lower lip with his teeth, thus distracting me from his hands--one was sliding beneath my top to stroke up my back, while the other caressed my bare thigh.  Fine tremors shook my senses; I seized Shinji's head in both my hands and cuddled against him, a boneless mass of desire that fit comfortably into his embrace.

            "Shinji..." I surfaced from that riptide of desire enough to gasp his name.  There was no longer any such thing as shame as I pleaded for his touch.  "Put your hands on me...kiss me...I want..." I was unsure if I was speaking German or Japanese—unsure if I was speaking at all.

            His nose touched against my neck, his breath a warm cloud against my skin.  I was suddenly aware of how ill-fitting Misato's borrowed cutoffs were as Shinji's hand slid beneath them.  He pressed tiny kisses to whichever skin was closest as his hands stroked me, stirred me.  

            "Make me feel wanted..." I murmured, the ring of truth bringing a blush to my cheeks.  Embarrassed at last; I turned away from him.  His breath tickled my ear, and suddenly his warm, wet tongue was exploring the shell.  I hissed in a breath as he scored my ear gently with his teeth.  

            "Oh..." Almost without my conscious control, I rolled my hips against Shinji's body, dizzy with the heat we were making together.  When I couldn't control the shudders racking my body, I turned my head towards where I thought Shinji's mouth would be.  Caught off-guard, his tongue caressed the side of my face.  I captured the wet pink muscle in my mouth and sucked on it, hard.

            Shinji made a sound that could have been my name.  I felt him stretched hard and firm beneath his pants, and I was unable to help grinding my body down against his, which intensified rather than alleviated the ache that burned within me.  "It's about damned time," I growled, or tried to growl, not really having enough air to do so.

            His hands turned my blood to rain, leaving shivers in their wake as they slid over me.  They were restless, unsure of where to hold me, where to linger, finally finding their way easily down the back of the cutoffs I'd borrowed from Misato.  I'd never been more happy to be too small for her clothes.  

            A purr trickled past my lips at Shinji's touch, and then my breath was torn from me as he pulled me almost roughly against him, moving us both to some unheard rhythm.  Memory flashed behind my suddenly closed eyes, a dance routine, two bodies moving as one, one mind, one heart.  

            "Shinji..." I kneaded the back of his neck, needing to hold on to something, anything.  There were so many things to say--love me, want me, stop, and never stop--but my lips would only form his name, over and over again.

            That wicked rhythm he was moving us to was threatening to drown me.  I drew my body out of Shinji's grasp, with only a fine sheen of sweat between his hands and my skin.  His touch became light and teasing as he traced his tongue down between my breasts, his mouth warm and demanding.  I was unable to help pressing myself closer, offering myself to him as he bathed my hot skin with soft kisses and gentle strokes of his tongue.  

            Shinji's arms slid around me, bringing me down against him once more.  His lips roamed over my skin almost languidly, threatening to lull me to sleep.  He touched his lips to mine gently, murmuring my name through the kiss.  

            I blinked confusedly.  This was all wrong.  The kisses should have been heating up now, harder, faster.  He should be panting in my ear, growling my name, taking my clothes off...what was wrong?

            He swallowed my puzzled question with a kiss, an almost chaste kiss, the warmth of his mouth against mine.  Our eyes met, and I was suddenly so aware of his arms around me, tight around me, not to hurt me but because he wanted me near.  He wanted me near...

            The world trembled in a sudden wash of tears, but I blinked them away, afraid he might see.  Instead I touched my nose against his, soft and questioning as a first kiss, and he answered me with a light touch of lips.

            "I'm sorry," he murmured, and I felt my heart sink.  He was doing what he always did--running away and then apologizing.  I opened my mouth to reprimand him, but he cut me off.

            "No, wait.  I'm not sorry." I almost felt his grin as he wound me hopelessly in his arms.  I snuggled into that delicious place where his neck and shoulder met, smelling his scent--so warm and clean, a hint of the soap he used--suddenly exhausted.

            "I _want_ you, idiot," I protested almost exasperatedly, pressing kisses to whatever skin I could reach, needing to be as close as I could.

            My body was tense until he gave the response I was aching for.  "I want you too, Asuka.  More than even I can understand.  But I don't think I have to understand.  I don't even care if I do or not.  I just know that I want you."

            A small smile found its way to my eyes.  "I know."

            Shinji returned my smile.

            "You've surprised me once again, Shinji Ikari," I teased.  "I can't believe you actually knew what you were doing.  Do I need to send that pervert Aida a thank-you note? "

            Shinji chuckled, the sound rumbling through me.  "He's not _that _bad, Asuka.  Besides, I was the one that actually sat down and watched those videos."

            I couldn't help but laugh.  "Only you would actually sit down and _watch_ porn.  Actually _watch_ it."

            Shinji's smile warmed me to my toes.  I licked delicately at the outer shell of his ear, nibbling gently on the lobe.  "You've made me proud, Shinji, not running away from the sight of wild sex.  A pervert to the core."

            "I--am not!" The smile ruined his attempted indignance.

            My own smile was marred by a very unladylike but very happy snort.  "Do you really expect me to believe that? You seemed to enjoy having your hair yanked on--" I slid one hand through his dark hair.  "--and your tongue sucked..." I lifted my other hand to his face to stroke his lips.

            Shinji returned my snort.  "You were the one _pulling_ my hair and _sucking_ my tongue.  _You _seemed rather excited when I got...um, excited!"

            I laughed, but heat rushed to my face.  I cuddled against him to hide the blush, rolling my hips against his once more.  His body reacted against mine, rekindling that ache in me.  When I was sure my blush had cooled, I speared him with my eyes, rolling my hips against him again.  "So you _do_ like that..."

            Caught, he cuddled me closer.  "As if that's some great discovery." His hand found its way to my hair, stroking, tugging gently.  The touch was comforting.  I wasn't sure I understood how his hands could move me so, bring me to the heights of passion, warm me in his safe embrace.

            "Shinji..."

            He massaged my back, those hands, so strong in a fight, so skilled with a progressive knife, so soft on my body.  "What is it, Asuka?"

            I hadn't meant to ask the question, but my masks had dropped away.  There were no shields left to hide behind.  "Why did you stop?"

            Shinji waited before answering.  Every passing heartbeat thunked hollowly against my breastbone till he tightened our embrace once more.  I felt the tension in him ease suddenly, and he said it very simply, perfectly clearly, so that I might make no mistake.

            "I love you, Asuka.  That's why I stopped."

            The world was upside down.

            It came to me suddenly, on a wave of clarity that one usually needs to meditate to have.  I knew exactly where I was, where I belonged.  I was home in his embrace.

            I could not look at him.  My eyes were warm and wet with tears, and I hid in his shoulder as they caught on my lashes, spilled down my cheek.  Shinji's breathing was a slow, steady rhythm against me.  His hand tangled in my hair, solid and warm, stroking as I wept.  We didn't speak, but that strong hand said the words I'd wanted to hear my whole life.

            (I'm here.)

*****

            In the dream, I was a child who had fallen asleep on the sofa.  My father was carrying me to my room...

            Even as I realized it was a dream, the strong arms were carefully depositing me onto a warm bed in a safe place, ever so gently tucking the sheets around me.  I felt the heat of his body so close to mine, one hand tucking a lock of hair behind my ear as he knelt at my bedside.  The brief warmth I felt on my forehead must have been a kiss, his lips soft as a whisper, as if he were bestowing a blessing on me.

            My eyes were closed, but still I felt his warmth nearby, as if he were watching over me.  Like...an angel.  He said nothing at all, but he didn't need to.  I felt my lips curl into a smile.  There was only one person who made me feel this way.

            "Shinji..."

*****

*****

**Author's Note:**

"I'm falling in love, my SDAT and me, with Shinji Ikari, him and me, in a tree, I-N-G..." *smile*

Avarice, you got me back into the entry plug, and I couldn't be more grateful.  Thank you so much for honoring me with the request to write this.  I loved every minute of it.  I only hope it does "Asuka's Smile" justice.  Please accept my humble offering and have pity on me. *smile*

I haven't been in an Eva in a while! I hope that anyone who reads this enjoys reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it--although that might be tough, I had a great time writing it! I accept reviews of all kinds; my email is shapeshifter883@netzero.net.

*smile* Wunderbar.

**Notes from Avarice:**

Well, there you have it, ladies and germs.  The by-far-more-talented and absolutely wonderful Serena.  It took awhile to get here, but the end results are so marvelous I feel like I'm going to burst at the seams in pride.

Now, as I've tried to tell everyone I've talked with thus far, check out this splendid young lady's other works.  They're all extremely well done, but I'll warn you that every one of them will leave you craving for more.

--Avarice

**More Notes From Serena:**

He is entirely too kind to me.  I am not more talented than he.  If not for him, I'd never have written this in the first place! *smile*


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